


Better than Good

by Keysmasher



Series: Good Girl [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, And a little bit of, But mostly deliciously filthy smut, Case Fic, Dirty Talk, F/M, Flirting, Followed by schmoopy aftercare, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Gangbang, Innuendo, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Rough Sex, Smut, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keysmasher/pseuds/Keysmasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow-up to 'Good Girl', but can stand on its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plot

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this was originally supposed to be another PWP...but I fucked up and gave it plot. Sorry. Ch. 1 is (trite, overused) plot, Ch. 2 is porn, Ch. 3 is shamelessly schmoopy aftercare.

It had been two years since she'd seen them, but she recognized them the moment they walked into her office in cheap suits. They recognized her, too, she could see it in the way their eyes widened and they glanced at each other and then at the third man to their right.

She grinned. "Sam. Dean. Good to see you again."

"You too," Sam said automatically. "This is our friend Cas."

Cas was pretty, dark hair and bright blue eyes, and she wondered absently why attractive people seemed to find each other. "What can I do for you?"

"We just have a couple questions for you," Dean said with a reassuring smile.

"Well, I live to serve," she said with a small smirk, gratified when Dean's eyes widened and a flush crept up Sam's neck. Cas just looked a bit confused. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." Sam and Dean smiled and folded themselves into the chairs in her office; Cas stayed standing. Sam went on, "We were wondering what you could tell us about the recent spate of bad luck your company's been having."

She reached for a sheet of paper and a pen. "There's not much to tell," she said vaguely as she wrote. "We've had a few accidents, it's true, but it's nothing that couldn't happen anywhere." She slid the paper over to them and watched as they read it, speaking just to fill the silence. "It's awful what happened to them, but they were just accidents."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "Joke?" he mouthed, and she shook her head. Speaking audibly now, he said, "Right, well, if you're sure. Thank you for your time."

"Of course." She smiled. "It was lovely to see you two again."

"You too," Dean said, smiling lazily and reaching to shake her hand. His eyes fell down obviously to the swell of her breasts. 

She held his hand just a beat too long before turning to Sam. "Sam. Always a pleasure."

"Same." He smiled quickly and shook her hand, professional.

"And Cas. Great to meet you." She offered her hand to him and he took it, looking vaguely mystified about something. "Keep these two out of trouble, eh?" she joked.

"I do not think that possible," he said gravely.

She laughed. "You may have a point there."

"We'll let you get back to work," Sam said. The three of them made their escape.

 _Well, Cas is certainly pretty. Has Sam gotten even_ taller _somehow?_ she wondered. It was possible. Her own brother hadn't stopped growing until he hit 6'8" at twenty-six.

She shook off the thought of another night with them and turned back to work.  
***  
She parked her car and walked around to the front of the building. The three of them were loitering near an old black car - a '60s Chevy, she thought, but she'd never been all that interested in cars - but straightened when they saw her. Sam grinned and hugged her quickly. "Thought you might not come."

She snorted. "Yeah, I went to all the trouble of making plans just to bail. That's likely."

"We're being spied on, act natural, Ashley's Diner at seven?" Dean teased. "That's trouble?"

"You think I know every diner in a forty-mile radius?" she asked indignantly. "I usually eat at home. And we couldn't meet in that town, it would get back to my boss in hours."

"Why can it not get back to your boss?" Cas asked. She was beginning to get the feeling everything he did had a sort of gravity to it, a weight she couldn't begin to imagine. Strict upbringing, maybe, made it hard for him to understand not everything was life or death.

"Because those weren't accidents," she said grimly, rubbing her arms. _No way is it seventy-five out here,_ she thought, cursing the weatherman for making her think it was safe to wear a short-sleeved dress.

"You are cold," Cas observed.

She shrugged. "I'm always cold. It's nothing new."

"Seemed pretty warm last time we saw each other," Dean said. "Anyway, I'm starving. Let's go in."

When they were seated - Sam and Dean on one side, she with Cas on the other - and had given drink orders, Sam asked, "What did you mean by 'those weren't accidents'?"

"They weren't. I don't know what's going on, but the way the display fell on top of Ashley? There's no way it could have happened without a push."

"Coroner's report said a heavy object unbalanced it."

She blinked. "How did you get access to the coroner's report?"

Sam smiled. Dean pulled a badge. "We work for OSHA," he said.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Uh-huh. Sure you do. And that gives you access to restricted files."

"It does," Sam said earnestly.

"You two are full of shit. Just admit you hacked it and move on."

"Why do you think they - hacked it?" Cas asked.

She didn't think she imagined the pause before 'hacked', like it was a word he'd never heard and was trying out for the first time. "Because everyone hacks into it. It's a running joke with some of us - don't know how someone died? Check the autopsy results. Their firewall sucks."

"It really does," Sam said. It was the closest to an admission she'd ever get, and she knew it. "Back to the display shelf?"

"It was a granite sphere. God only knows why we had it to begin with. It was on the shelf for weeks. Why would it unbalance the damn thing at just the right moment to kill her? And I did the math just for the hell of it - there's no way she got those injuries from a glorified bookshelf falling on top of her. Gravity isn't that harsh a mistress. Somebody had to have been pushing."

They traded glances she couldn't read. "What about - uh - Kendra Tucker?" Sam asked. "The one who was electrocuted?"

"Her brother died in an electrical fire when she was twelve," she answered promptly. "She never would've been stupid enough to stick a knife in a toaster."

"She would have known that wasn't enough to electrocute her, though," Dean pointed out.

She shrugged to hide her shaking. "She wouldn't even touch exposed outlets, let alone mess with something to do with electricity. And she wasn't electrocuted, now, was she? When the toaster exploded, a sharp piece of metal just _happened_ to catch her carotid? I'm not buying it."

"Sandra Friks?"

She hid behind her menu when she said, "She wouldn't have killed herself like that. She would've gone for a knife before she went with pills and bleach."

"How do you know?" Dean pushed.

She shifted uncomfortably. Her hips were killing her. "She was a chronic pain patient. Joint issues," she explained. "Sandra would have gone for something as painless as possible. She wouldn't OD and wash it down with chemicals that would burn her from the inside out."

"Take your order?" the waiter said brightly. She jumped.

"Little twitchy there?" Dean joked when he was gone.

"I'm just a little on edge with everything that's been happening," she said defensively. "Besides, it's not just how they died. They were a common type."

"How so?" Sam asked.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes, late twenties. And the order - Ashley was on the floor, Kendra was her manager, Sandra was the supervisor. It's escalating the job positions."

"You fit that type," Dean pointed out. "Why did it not choose you?"

"Because I'm two levels above Sandra. If the pattern keep up, it's going to be Jill Osser tonight - she's the only one who fits the type in that level of management."

"How many in your level fit the type?" Sam asked.

"I'm the only one _in_ my level of management. Only thing above me is corporate, and they're- well, they're not too worried. It's only women, so it's not like they care."

"I do not believe that to be the case," Cas said gravely.

"When I talked to my supervisor about it, he said - and this is a direct quote - 'Those broads brought it on themselves, being careless like that. I won't have you saying any different. If a man who knows what he's doing gets hurt, we'll look into it.' He doesn't give a shit."

"That sounds like something from the sixties," Dean said. "What, people still care about that?"

She stared at him. "Where have you been living, under a rock? I complain, I get fired, I can't use them as a reference, I don't get another job because there's a five-year gap in my resume and my previous employer hates me. I can't go to HR because they don't give a shit, and if they open an investigation, they'll find ways to make me miserable enough to quit. I'm stuck until I can get a different job. I'm pretty sure they're looking for an excuse to let me go now, which is why there's a microphone in my office."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Who gives a shit? I complain, I get fired." She rubbed her face. "Look. I don’t even know why you guys are here. You're sure as hell not OSHA."

"We're here because women are getting killed," Dean said. "We think we can stop it, but only if we know everything going on. Can we ask you some questions? Even if they seem a little strange?"

"Have at it."

"Have you smelled anything weird? Like sulfur, or rotten eggs?" Sam asked. She shook her head. "Any electrical problems? Flickering lights, mysterious power outages?"

"The surveillance cameras cut out right before the display shelf was pushed, and right before the toaster exploded," she said. "Another reason I doubt they were accidents."

"Have there been any deaths in the building before these three?" Dean asked. "Violent or unexplainable?"

"Not that I know of, but we only moved in a few years ago." She didn't know why they were asking weird questions, but after the rant she'd just subjected them to, she wasn't about to complain.

Their food came then, and for a few minutes, things were quiet as they ate. Then Dean said quietly, "Bet that sandwich isn't the only meat you're thinking of eating, huh?" and she choked on her laughter.

When she got the food out of her windpipe, she wheezed, "More satisfying than yours."

Dean smirked and purred, "Oh, really? I don't remember you saying that last time."

She smirked back and raised her foot to press against his balls under the table. "I seem to have forgotten." She hadn't. She really, really hadn't. She remembered _exactly_ how it had made her feel small and safe and precious to be pressed between them.

She also remembered coming so hard she passed out.

"Maybe we'll have to remind you," Sam rumbled. 

She couldn't hide her shiver of want even as she wondered how Cas fit into it. She wouldn't be opposed to adding him, assuming he was interested, but she'd felt weird enough with just those two seeing her naked. She'd cried for hours after she'd gone home. Still, the pleasure they'd given her more than made up for the weird mood drop, so she was willing to do it again. And if Cas wanted in, well, she'd done weirder things. Maybe.

"Oh yeah?" she said, smirking. "And just how will you do that?"

"Oh honey," Dean murmured, "we don't want to embarrass you here."

"We have a job to finish," Cas said quietly. "Perhaps we can resume at a later date?"

"Sorry," she apologized, dropping her foot. Formal speech was how she usually covered up nerves, and she guessed he did the same. "Didn't mean to go quite that far."

Sam pulled out his phone and they exchanged cell numbers; he went in as _Sam the Giant_. She still remembered the way he'd split her lip. The rest of the meal passed amicably, making small talk with small innuendo but never rising to the level it had been, and when they parted, Dean and Sam both kissed her thoroughly. Cas merely nodded at her; she nodded back, not wanting to initiate contact if he was uncomfortable.

When she got to work the next morning, she found out that Jill Oster had somehow managed to get her blouse wrapped around her face so thoroughly she'd suffocated. "Stupid cunt," her supervisor said when she called him. "Shouldn't have been wearing something so frilly."

She looked at her subordinate's plain white button-down, now being bagged for evidence, and had to bite her tongue until it bled to keep from telling him what she thought of him.

She stayed late that night. Yearly reviews were starting soon, and she had to get that paperwork in order as well as the incident report on Jill. She'd filled out more of those forms in a week than she had in all the years before combined.

There was a loud thud outside, and she called, "Hello?" before internally wincing. _This is how horror movies start,_ she thought, opening her pocketknife - it was a short blade, only four inches long, but better than nothing - just in case.

She had no fucking clue what came through her door next. All she got was the impression of claws and fangs before she swung the knife and it all went black.

She regained consciousness feeling better than she had in years. Her back barely hurt, her lungs weren't crackling on the inhale, her knees weren't throbbing from being curled up on her side-

Wait. Why was she on her side? She'd been at her desk, doing reports, and there had been a noise and then _something_ had attacked her.

Shit, she needed to get up, she needed to get _help_. She started to lever herself off the floor, only to collapse again when her head swam. And oh, there came the pain again. Apparently the part of her brain involved in interpreting nerve signals had re-engaged.

"Hey. Relax. You're okay," someone said quietly. "We took care of it."

She squinted, trying to see who it was; she was nearly blind. Strong, competent hands rolled her onto her back and slid her glasses onto her nose.

"Sam, Dean, and Cas," she breathed. "Why am I not surprised."

"Because you are of above average intelligence," Cas said gravely, "and as such, you are more likely to make connections."

She blinked at him. "English until my brain's online?"

"You're not surprised because you're smart," Dean said bluntly. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah." She rolled onto her hands and knees and forced herself up, thankful for Dean's grip on her arm when her knees cracked so badly one of them buckled beneath her. "What was that thing?"

"You saw it?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." She remembered it perfectly. "What was it? It sure as hell wasn't human." She didn't think she imagined the tension that suddenly filled the room. "Oh, for God's sake, just tell me," she grumbled.

"You shouldn't take His name in vain," Cas said.

"Sorry," she answered automatically. She wouldn't have pegged him as particularly religious, given the company he kept, but apparently she'd been wrong.

"Have a seat," Dean suggested. "We'll explain."

Forty-five minutes later, she was working on a mother of a migraine. "So let me get this straight. You hunt things that shouldn't exist. Cas is actually Castiel, the angel of Thursday-"

"How did you know that?" Cas asked.

She flapped a hand dismissively. "Minored in religious studies. Belief systems are kind of fascinating when you look at how they develop over time. So you're down here with two - hunters, you called yourselves? - and you kill evil. And you two are brothers." She blew out a breath. "Interesting bedfellows."

"You ain't seen interestin' yet," Dean drawled.

She rubbed her eyes and opened her desk drawer. "Yeah, maybe not."

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Sam asked nonchalantly, so out of place she would have laughed if she hadn't been on the verge of crying.

"Painkillers, I know they're in here somewhere," she mumbled. When she pulled them out, it was only to realize her back was being such a little bitch she couldn't press down hard enough to take off the cap. "A little help here?" she mumbled, ashamed, as she held the bottle out.

Fingers pressed against her forehead and something blazed through her, white-hot; she sucked in a breath. Just like that, her headache was gone, her knee wasn't throbbing, and her back was down to manageable levels. "Wow," she breathed. "Thank you."

Cas nodded and stepped back. "It is...uncomfortable, to see someone in pain and avoid helping," he said stiffly.

"Still. Thank you."

"So back on topic," Sam said, "you're taking this well."

She blew out a breath before replying. "Helps that I saw it."

"Yeah."

They looked at each other awkwardly; she levered herself out of the chair. "Um. This has been...educational," she said, fumbling her words.

Dean smirked suddenly. "You're leaving already? We haven't even reached the fun part yet!"

Her eyebrows rose. She knew a challenge when she heard one. "Do tell me what the fun part entails."

They grinned. Sam draped an arm around her shoulders and started steering her out of her office. "About the same as last time," he said. "But with Cas, this time, if you're good with that."

"I am always good with that," she said, ignoring the twinge of wrongness she felt at the words. "If he's up for it."

"How 'bout it, Cas?" Dean asked from behind her and Sam. "Feel like fucking a little slut through a mattress tonight?"

"I do not believe your standards of sluttiness apply," Cas said, sounding truly befuddled. "And it is my understanding that even if they did, it would be rude to openly acknowledge it."

Sam sighed. "It's dirty talk, Cas. We spent a night with her a few years ago. She likes it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, Cas, I do," she admitted, stopping by her car. "Wait - shit - the mic in my office, corporate's going to hear everything we talked about."

"I fixed the recording to make it sound like you were doing reports all evening," Cas said. "Sam and Dean assured me it would be in everyone's best interests."

"Thank you," she said, relieved. "So who's riding with whom?"

Dean did a double-take. "Did you just use the word 'whom'?"

"It _is_ the proper form of the word," she said sweetly.


	2. Porn

She was slammed back into the door the moment it closed behind them, the way she had been years before. Sam's mouth nipped at her left ear and down around her neck; Dean thrust his tongue into her mouth. She brought her hand up to curl in Sam's hair, the other reaching toward Cas and inviting him closer.

"Clothes off," Sam gasped, pulling his shirts off over his head, and Jesus fucking Christ he'd gotten even more ripped since the last time she'd seen him. Dean pulled away to do the same. Cas tilted his head at them like a confused puppy, and she bit her lip so as not to laugh.

"C'mere, Cas." She slipped out from under Dean and pulled his tie off. "Haven't kissed you yet," she murmured, stretching up. His lips were chapped and cool. Unlike Sam, who kissed harsh and demanding, or Dean, who fucked her mouth with his tongue when he was hard, Cas was quiet. He opened his mouth and went still and soft, letting her lick into him and parroting her movements. His arms wrapped around her.

It was an interlude, one she hadn't been expecting, gentleness where she'd been expecting teeth. She could hear Sam and Dean undressing behind her, but the rest of her attention was locked on his mouth and on remembering to breathe.

Fuck he was a good kisser.

At last he pulled away and smiled down at her, an odd gentleness on his features. "Sure you want this?" he asked.

It occurred to her that was less formal than she'd yet heard him. It was a remarkable change. "I'm sure," she answered, pushing his trenchcoat and suit jacket off his shoulders. He started undoing each of his shirt buttons, and she hid a smile. "Just pull it over your head," she said softly, undoing his belt.

She felt hands on her hips. "You should do that too," Sam said. "I love your tits."

She turned to smile at him. "I'm going, I'm going," she teased, gripping the bottom of her blouse. The moment it was off, Sam's hands were mauling her through her bra. She giggled and unhooked it, letting the straps fall down her arms. "Sam, honey, you gotta let me take this off," she said. His hands left her alone barely long enough for the material to fall away before he spun her around and pinched her nipples. She arched into the feeling and reached down to stroke his already-erect cock.

"So fucking sensitive," he mumbled. She heard Cas's pants hit the floor behind her.

Dean moved next to Sam and reached between them, undoing her jeans with an ease that spoke of long practice. She wiggled them and her panties until they dropped to the floor, then kicked them off along with her shoes.

They were all naked now, forming a weird sort of circle with her in the center, and suddenly things got awkward. Without the distraction of undressing, nobody quite knew what would happen next.

She made an executive decision and dropped to her knees, sucking Sam into her mouth without warning, and he bucked. After he'd split her lip the last time, she'd ordered a thicker dildo online and practiced; now she pushed herself all the way down, right up to the thatch of hair at the base, and looked up at him.

"Fuck," he groaned, fisting his hands in her hair and starting to move his hips. "Fucking whore, so fucking good, sucking cock like a fucking champion."

Something about going down had always been a massive turn-on for her. Maybe it was the taste and smell, or maybe it was knowing she was making someone else happy. More likely it was how much she liked having things in her mouth, the burn in her lungs, the twinge in her scalp when he pulled at her, the balls slapping obscenely against her chin.

"Fuck, you're made for sucking cock, aren't you, can't help yourself, filthy little slut, just want to get your lips wrapped around us and get your little slut throat stretched out."

She let him fuck into her mouth as she reached to her sides for Dean and Cas, whom she stroked at a pace she hoped would keep them interested without getting them off.

"So good, slutty bitch, gonna make me come, you gonna swallow it all? Or maybe I should paint your face with it, you'd look fucking beautiful like that, shiny and white all over you-" He choked and slammed his hips all the way forward, coming hard down her throat. She swallowed as well as she could.

"Guess you're not coming on her face, then," Dean said. Sam moved to the side. "Bet you wanna suck one of us now, right? Get us off, so the fun can begin? Start with me, I'll be quick, then take your time with Cas." He stood in front of her and gripped her head with both hands, thrusting into her mouth and throat without telegraphing his move, and she jumped. "Yeah, whore, bet you like it like this, huh? Just using your slutty little hole? Making you take it, all my cock, wonder if you can get my balls in your mouth, fuck yeah, gonna come soon, get it up again fast, get my fingers in you and make you come while you're sucking off Cas, he's an angel, bet he's got stamina to spare, and when he comes he can stay hard if he wants, I'm sure. Fuck, that's it, down your throat, all the way down, stick your- oh, fuck, yeah, that's it, lick my balls while I'm pounding your whore throat." She felt his balls jump on her tongue, and then he was coming.

He pushed her head toward Cas. "Make it good," he advised. "Don't think he's quite ready to grab you and just fuck your skull."

She smiled up at him, panting a little from the exertion. He looked nervous. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll do all the work. Just relax."

His dick was about the same length as Sam's, but thinner, and it curved upward a little bit. She absently wondered how all three of them were fucking huge, but pushed the thought to the side before she spent too much time wondering. She leaned forward and licked a stripe up one side and down the other before getting in there, putting her mouth along one side and making little kitten-licks as she moved toward the base and then back to the tip, which she nursed on, lapping at the slit and tasting his salty, bitter pre. She swirled her tongue around the head and pressed on the vein along the underside, and he groaned.

She ducked forward to hide her smile and got one of his balls in her mouth, sucking and licking, and he bucked. She switched to the other, then pulled them both in, scraping her top teeth gently along the sensitive flesh above his sack. She let them pop out of her mouth and licked her way back to the head of his dick.

She sucked the head into her mouth and went still, not licking or lapping or sucking. She looked innocently up at him, wondering at the expression on his face - like he was the happiest man in the world - before she winked slowly and deliberately. She started bobbing back and forth, then, bringing a hand up to fondle his still-wet balls, and when she got deep enough he hit the back of her throat she left off the bobbing and just sucked him all the way down.

That was his undoing. He gripped her hair and hissed as he shot his load down into her belly.

She started to pull off, only to get a hand on the back of her head pushing her back down. "Stay," Dean growled. "I told you I was going to make you come while you were sucking him off, and I'm going to."

He waited a beat before pulling his hand from her head and trailing it down her back, making her cringe away - the surface nerves were dead, but the deeper ones were still intact and had become oversensitive, creating an odd sensation of painfully hard pressure without touch. He noticed her pushing forward to get away from him and dropped his hand to her hip. "Don't like it being touched, huh?"

"I believe she finds it painful," Cas told him. "When I healed her earlier, I noticed long-term damage to the nerves."

"Well that's lovely," Sam said sarcastically.

"So sexy, right?" Dean joked, leaning forward and biting her ear. He whispered, "You're still beautiful."

She blinked in surprise. Nobody - her ex-boyfriend, her friends, her family - had _ever_ called her beautiful. Sam's comment about pretty eyes all those years ago was the first time she'd had something about her body complimented. People seemed to think complimenting clothes - 'nice dress', 'love the shoes' - was the same thing as complimenting her, which it really wasn't. That was probably why she'd been so willing for a threesome that night, because Sam had seen her instead of her clothes.

Thank fuck for gorgeous one-night stands who inexplicably thought she looked good.

Cas smoothed her hair back, and she had a sudden uncomfortable thought. He answered it. "I can only tell the general direction of a person's mind."

She pulled off his dick long enough to speak. "Bet that's made things awkward in the past."

"You have no idea," Sam said, pushing her back forward. Cas's cock nestled in her throat again, and she pulled in air around it, breathing through her nose. She wasn't quite sure that should be possible, but she supposed that an angel who could read minds could bend anatomy as well. Sam's hand stayed tangled in her hair.

"We may have just killed the mood," Dean said sadly. "Guess we'll have to revive it." A hand slipped between her legs and she spread her knees for him. "So wet already. Haven't even been touched and you're dripping down to the carpet."

"She just likes getting her mouth filled," Sam teased, pulling her hair so she backed off of Cas's dick before being pushed forward again.

"I noticed. Little slut." A finger pressed inside and she spasmed, hips jerking and cunt clenching as Sam set up a shallow rocking motion for her head. "Damn. You're still tight, you know that?" A thumb pressed against her clit and she bucked, desperate, she was so close she could _taste_ it, if Cas and Sam would just let her fill her throat when Dean pressed down she'd come so hard she'd see stars, she knew it-

Cas gripped her head and thrust forward, thank fuck for mind-reading angels, and her legs gave out beneath her as she quivered and came on Dean's fingers.

"Good girl," Dean said. "Let's get this on the bed, fill your little cunt and stretch your ass out. Make you airtight."

Cas pulled out of her mouth completely and she grinned up at him. "Good?"

"Very." His voice was even huskier than it had been earlier, and she wondered how that was even possible. "You are good at this."

"Thanks." Sam pulled her to her feet and pushed her down onto the bed, pulling at her until she was positioned how he wanted - head hanging over the edge and knees bent, exposing her holes to the chill of the air.

He straddled her chest, facing away. "I like fucking your tits," he said casually. "Bet Dean wants to fuck your mouth again, he didn't get much time in there earlier, and Cas is going to watch as I stretch you out, fill you up with fingers so you can take our cocks." He grabbed her hands and moved them so she was holding her breasts together around his dick. "Fuck, that's it, right there." He thrust forward once, twice, before settling into a steady rhythm and leaning forward to stroke her cunt.

Dean suddenly appeared over her and said, "Let's get these off before they fall, huh?" He folded her glasses and put them on the nightstand. "Be kinda awkward if they get stepped on."

A finger probed at her pussy and she arched as much as she could, trying to get it inside. Dean laughed. "Can't wait to get your little cunt filled, can you? How 'bout your mouth, darlin', wanna take my cock in that throat again?" He didn't wait for an answer, just angled himself and slid right in down her throat. He settled there, balls on her nose, and said, "Sammy, how's she doin'?"

"She's doing." The finger finally slipped inside and rubbed against her. "Cas, you wanna get a finger in here? Stretch her out? Otherwise we'll be too big for her, split her wide open."

Dean's cock was cutting off her oxygen; the burn in her lungs was getting painful and there were stars bursting in her vision. She tried to slap at him, but was losing track of where her limbs were in relation to Sam's body, and thank fuck _again_ for mind-reading angels because Cas said, "Dean, let her breathe," very sharply. Dean pulled out of her mouth and she gasped for air, vision slowly clearing.

"Sorry," Dean said sheepishly.

"It's fine, just don't stay down so long," she wheezed. Sam slid a second finger in her cunt and stroked against the sides of the front, still moving lazily in her cleavage. "Oh, God."

A third finger joined, and it was the wrong angle for Sam, which meant Cas had joined the party. She squirmed. It wasn't painful, but there was definitely something a little strange about having two different angles with nothing on her clit.

Dean gripped the sides of her head and slid in again, this time barely pausing when he finished the instroke. He set a slow pace, keeping them both occupied instead of trying to get himself off, and he only pulled out far enough to pop out of her throat and let her get a breath.

"Yeah, you like that," Sam breathed when Cas added a second finger. "Four fingers in your little pussy while my dick's on your tits, such a slut, want more, don't you, want a dick in that little cunt of yours." She bucked in response. "Tell you what. I'll stop fucking your tits, Dean'll get out of your mouth for a couple minutes, and you can ride Cas, sound good? Cas, lay down, you can roll over and pound her to your heart's content when we get her ass opened up good and wide for us."

Dean pulled out of her mouth, Sam rolled off her chest, and she was moved to straddle Cas, who had his hands by his sides. She reached down and settled them on her hips before gripping his dick and positioning it properly. She slid down slowly, savoring every inch; from the look on his face, he enjoyed it just as much.

When she was all the way down, she started moving her hips in little figure eights, and his hands tightened almost painfully. She leaned forward and braced her hands on his chest so she could move herself up and down, feeling his dick scrape along the inside of her cunt, hitting spots that made her want to stop and just enjoy, but when she tried the feeling went away, so clearly she needed to move against them to get the sensation.

She felt a cap click and leaned forward a little more, pausing just long enough for Sam or Dean to slide a finger in her ass before continuing her rhythm as they stretched her out. Her ass burned, but she knew the second she got a dick in there she'd stop caring.

He stretched her slowly, carefully, and for once he was quiet. She found herself hoping for someone to talk, to break the silence, but there was no way in hell she could pull off the kind of dirty talk they'd been using so far.

"You're gorgeous," Cas said suddenly. "You're so pretty."

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him, tangling their tongues together. "You tell the nicest lies," she breathed into his open mouth.

"You are," he said earnestly. "You have wonderful eyes, your chest is attractive, and your lips are full."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." She kissed him again for no other reason than because she wanted to.

"Think you're ready to get your ass filled," Dean said, interrupting the moment. "You want me or Sam in here first?"

"You," she said. "Sam, c'mere, lemme suck you off-"

"At least let me get inside first," Dean said, sounding amused. "Then we'll flip over and Cas can go to town, wreck your pretty little cunt and I'll tear your ass apart while Sam bruises your throat."

She felt the blunt pressure of Dean's dick against her hole and couldn't help tensing. Dean pushed her shoulders until she was flat on top of Cas, giving him a better angle, and slid inside. Beneath them, Cas gasped.

"Feels good, doesn't it, Cas?" Dean asked. "Tightening her little pussy around you, bet it was tight already but this just made it better." He eased out and then in. "And the slut we've got between us likes it that way. Now come on, roll over, told you you were gonna wreck her cunt-"

He was cut off by Cas doing exactly what he was told, flipping them all over - and that _had_ to be a side effect of being an angel, there was no way in hell a human could have pulled that off by himself - and raising himself up on his elbows. "I believe Sam was interested in your mouth?" he said mildly.

"Shit, the way she is now I'll fuck her tits, too. Sit up a bit more - yeah, Cas, just like that." He slid in to sit just below her diaphragm and dropped his dick between her breasts. "Hold them for me, whore, I'll let you suck my dick if you keep 'em up."

She pushed her tits together for him and he thrust once, twice. She bucked her hips and gasped, "Damn it, you fuckers, move already."

"Think the whore needs to learn to watch her mouth," Dean said wickedly. "Sam, why don't you gag her until she learns?"

"Happily." Sam reached out and pulled her head up, pushing his dick inside her mouth. "Yeah, bitch, take it."

Cas thrust deep, making her buck and moan, and Dean laughed. "Horny little bitch."

Then they were both thrusting, throwing her against each other, hands on her hips in a bruising grip. She whined high in her throat, trying to meet them, but they were all three going at different rhythms and she couldn't sync up.

Dean's hands left her hips and crawled up her sides, making her squirm, before finding her tits and sliding up to pinch her nipples. He rolled them, making her arch into the feeling, and Sam sucked in a breath and stopped moving. _Trying not to come_ , she thought wildly.

Dean apparently thought so, too. "Come on, Sammy," he taunted, "come in her whore mouth, make her choke on your big fucking cock, shoot down her throat and fill up her belly- ah!" He thrust deep and came. This time he fucked her through his climax, pushing his cum back inside her, fighting gravity. His hands fell off her body.

Cas never slowed down.

Dean groaned. "All right, Sammy, come take her ass."

"Let Cas go next," he said absently. "I get in there she'll be so loose he won't feel anything."

"Good point. Hey, Cas, switch holes."

"In a moment. I'm close." He grabbed her legs and pulled them up over his arms, leaning forward to rest his head on Sam's shoulder - she could see the top of his hair peeking over Sam's bronzed skin - and thrusting even harder. A hand (Dean's, presumably) snaked around to press against her clit.

"Come, you slut, come on a limp dick in your ass and a stiff one in your cunt," Dean ordered.

Her head jerked as she did as she was told. She bucked against Cas again, desperate to feel his cock in her, holding himself inside so she could clench around him. _Thank fuck for mind-reading angels_ , she thought for the third time that night as he slammed his cock home and stayed there.

He came seconds later, but he stayed hard. "You want me in your ass, you said?"

"And Sam's gonna pound her cunt," Dean said approvingly.

They changed position, Sam on his back with his cock in her pussy, Cas behind her with his dick in her ass, and Dean standing over them all, pushing his way into her mouth. "Suck," he told her. "Get me nice and hard, and then I'm gonna fuck your throat. And then I'm going to come, and you're going to keep me in your mouth until I'm hard again, and we'll do this over and over until we're all satisfied."

They did.

When she was on her back, Sam fucking her face and Cas back in her cunt (Dean was watching, stroking himself lightly even though he wasn't hard after coming so much), cum dribbling out of her ass and around Cas's cock, Sam pushed forward so her nose met his stomach and grunted, "I really do want to come on your face."

She nodded weakly, oxygen deprivation making her feel a little dizzy. She was exhausted, but it was a good exhausted, and once they pulled out she thought she might just sleep naked on her back and not bother moving.

He thrust into her mouth a few more times before pulling out and stroking his thumb over the head. He came - a small amount, this time, and it dribbled on more than shot across her face, but that was to be expected.

He collapsed to the side and Dean flopped an arm over his chest. "He was right," Dean said. "You look good like that."

It was tacky on her face and she was already kind of regretting it, but their happiness made up for her discomfort. Cas reached forward and wiped it away gently, tenderly. He came again and pulled out.

She wasn't entirely sure what happened next, because she fell asleep in the next breath.


	3. Aftercare

She woke alone in the bed. Cas was sitting at the table, fully dressed, staring at the wall with a faint frown. Sam and Dean were nowhere to be seen, though she guessed one of them was in the bathroom.

It was a fairly large bed, which only made her feel small and insignificant. Ridiculous, given her size. And it was surely just as ridiculous to feel so vulnerable and lonely when Cas was right there and one of the others was in the next room.

She stood with only a small wince and started picking up her clothing, scattered around the room as it was. Someone had wiped her clean. She guessed it had been Dean, given that he'd done the task the time before, and how fucking useless was she that she couldn't even wash herself?

"You were exhausted," Cas remarked without looking at her. "Natural, given what we put you through last night."

Right. Mind-reading angel. _'General direction of a person's thoughts', my ass_ , she thought bitterly, and instantly wanted to slap herself for being such a fucking idiot.

His head turned, his blue eyes meeting hers. "You are not a 'fucking idiot' for thinking such things," he said, sounding puzzled. "And beating your head into a wall wouldn't help."

"So what would?" slipped out before she could stop it, and she instantly froze.

Cas stood and approached. "I do not know," he said. "Perhaps learning that you are worth time and attention? It seems to be a problem to know that among your species."

 _You are worth time and attention._ She turned away to hide her suddenly watery eyes.

Cas's hand closed on her shoulder and pulled her close, turning her as he did. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest, still fighting back the tears.

"Shit. What'd I miss?" she heard Dean ask. She hadn't even heard the bathroom door open.

"I believe she is experiencing what your culture calls 'sub drop'," Cas answered. "I may be mistaken."

"But we didn't do anything particularly kinky," Dean said, sounding confused. She felt his hand come to rest gently on her shoulder. "And it was hours ago. Hey." He rubbed his thumb along her shoulder blade. "You doing all right?"

That broke the dam, and Jesus, she was such a fucking _girl_ , crying after she went slutty and let herself get gangbanged and was such a whore she enjoyed it. Fuck, thank God she was thirty miles away from the town she worked in, if this got around she'd lose _everything._ Why the fuck had she done it? She'd let her stupid fucking body make decisions for her and she'd wanted to shove the revelations about monsters - fuck, _monsters were real_ \- to the back of her mind so she could process later. And she was horny. So she'd let herself get used like a fucking whore-

"I thought you enjoyed being treated like a whore," Cas said, sounding confused.

"Not the point," she sobbed.

"There's a difference between being treated like a whore in the sack and feeling like a whore after, Cas," Dean explained. "That what's going through your head right now?"

She nodded and cried harder into Cas's shirt.

"Your species has so many hang-ups about sex," Cas mused. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"Cas, that's not the problem here," Dean said patiently. "Here, let's sit down, all right?" He guided them over to the bed. Cas's arm draped over her shoulders; Dean's wrapped around her waist. She buried her face in her hands, such a little bitch, dumping this on them, probably ruining the aftermath of a pleasant night-

"Talk to me," Dean murmured. "Tell me what's going on."

"I don't know," she mumbled. "It's just- I don't know."

"Then let's start with feeling like a whore, all right? It doesn't matter. How much sex you have doesn't really determine how good a person you are."

"It does if you're a girl," she said, voice muffled. "Boys are studs, girls are cheap."

"What's wrong with being cheap? I'm cheap."

"Cheap means you don't get taken seriously."

"Who's going to know?"

"I know. I know. Nobody I care about it going to find out, but- it's not even about that."

"Then what is it about?" It was Cas that time, sounding truly puzzled.

She couldn't figure out how to say it. "It's like - always, constantly, been told who I am depends on the sex I have or don't have, and just - lots of sex makes you a bad person, and - and being submissive makes you weak, and just - there's a thousand little things, you don't know, you - it's not -" She broke down again, sobbing harder. "God, it's not even that, I just feel like shit, this always happens after I'm happy, it's like I can't handle it so I just fall apart because the serotonin or what-the-fuck-ever runs out-"

Dean nuzzled her neck. "It'll be okay."

"I know, I know it will be, I just have to make it through today and everything'll be fine again." She could feel herself shuddering, and being the only one naked made her all the more embarrassed.

"What do you need?" Dean asked.

"W-what?" she stammered.

"How can we help," Cas interpreted.

That made absolutely zero sense. She felt, more than saw, Cas frown. "You don't know, do you."

"Has anyone stuck around for this?" Dean asked.

She shook her head and choked out, "I just muddle through. Fuck and leave. Or yell at me, in my ex's case."

"Yell at you?" Cas's voice was calm, almost deceptively so; she picked up on that even through her tears.

"There's a reason he's my ex."

It was obvious neither of them knew how to respond, but Cas rubbed his thumb against her shoulder and Dean tightened his grip on her waist. She wiped the tears off, fuck, couldn't she pull herself together? She was a one-night stand, no reason to dump on them, they had problems of their own, fuck, they hunted _monsters_ and one was an angel, fuck, the Bible was pretty fucking clear on premarital, fuck fuck _fuck_.

"Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right," Cas said. "That is nothing you need to worry about."

"Doesn't mean I won't." She was an atheist whore, that pretty much meant Hell, right?

Cas turned her to face him and pulled her hands from her face, making her look at him. "You are not bound for Hell," he growled, eyes intense. "You are a good person. _That_ is what determines your afterlife."

"As long as you don't make a deal with a demon," Dean said, laying his hands on her shoulders. "And no, I'm not telling you how to do that."

"Wouldn't ask it," she whispered, tears blurring Cas's face.

His thumbs wiped her cheeks gently, and he kissed her forehead. "I do not understand," he said quietly, "how so many of you are blind to your worth."

"It's because we're always told we have none," she answered, just as softly.

Dean draped himself over her back. "You're fantastic."

"And you're a cuddler." She still felt like shit, but she could think a little more rationally now.

She'd get through the day, and she'd get through the day after, and then she'd go back to work and pretend she didn't know why the so-called accidents had suddenly stopped.

 _You can do this, baby,_ she told herself. _This is manageable. Head up, honey, you're going to be all right._

"You will be," Cas told her, and she burrowed into his chest and let them hold her until Sam got back from his breakfast run.

**Author's Note:**

> As might be obvious, this is my first time trying to write aftercare. Constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
